Happy Valentine's Day, Felicity Smoak
by SpicyPepper-SweetSugar
Summary: "Felicity spending the last hour and something of Valentine's in her apartment, dancing and singing and trying not to think of how alone she is. Then, there is a knock on her door." Olicity One-shot- obviously.


**Note: This a belated Valentine's Day one-shot that I came up with last night after spending Valentine's Day alone and reading a funny article on what single people should do for Valentine's. Don't remember where I found the article, but this is what came out of it, so I figured I might as well share it with you guys! :)**

**Spell-checked quickly, so if I missed something, try not to notice it!**

**Enjoy!**

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"**Happy Valentine's Day, Felicity Smoak" **

**Word count: 2,658**

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Felicity let out a loud sigh as she stepped into her dark, small apartment.

It had been yet another long day, both at Queen Consolidated and later at the Foundry, which she had recently begun calling the Arrow cave in her head. However, that was not relevant at the moment, because the only thing that was going through Felicity's head, was that she once again was alone on Valentine's Day.

Of course, it all depended on how you looked at it. Technically, she hadn't spent the day alone, but she didn't necessarily think 'spending the day with someone on Valentine's Day' included spending most of said twenty-four hour period with Oliver and Diggle. Not that she had anything against them, but as mentioned, it didn't exactly qualify as romantic to sew together the two men after they returned from a risky mission involving a drug lord.

Nevertheless, Diggle and Oliver had returned early from the mission and Felicity had left the Arrow cave at a quarter past ten. She got home half an hour later, mostly due to the fact that luck wasn't on her side.

"Every single stop light," she muttered, cursing the way the lights had always turned red. She pretty much threw her keys into the bowl on the kitchen counter and shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it up on a hook, before stepping into her living room and throwing herself on the couch.

She stayed there for a minute or two, glaring at the microwave wish showed the time; _10:47 pm_. Yet another Valentine she was single, tired and all alone in her small apartment; her mother would be _proud_- note the sarcasm. As she watched the next minute go by, Felicity finally stood up and walked to her bedroom to change out of the navy dress she had worn today and changed into her old MIT shirt before finally letting her hair fall from the ponytail it had been confined in all day. She took out a pair of sweatpants from her closet, but before pulling them on, she changed her mind and left them on the bed. What was the point of wearing pants if no one would be seeing her anyway? Besides, it wasn't as if she was insecure about her physic- except for maybe when she had seen Sara working out on the salmon ladder- and her MIT shirt covered most of her anyway, since it went to mid-thigh. Okay, so not _really _mid-thigh, maybe an inch above, but who could bother with geometrical details anyway?

As she was changing, Felicity decided to make the most of what was left of this international festivity and allow herself some Felicity-time. What she did, was very simple. She knew that most of her neighbors were couples, or were dating people, except for maybe old Mrs. Mills down the hall to the right, but she figured her hearing-aid might be turned off for the night since the old lady was probably asleep. The couples were most likely out to dinner, and honestly, the isolation of the building was pretty good. Taking all of this in calculation, Felicity walked up to the old stereo she had pretty much stolen out of her mom's home when she moved out (the woman never listened to music anyway, so Felicity figured she wouldn't mind much) and turned it on, only to let the latest mix-tape she had been listening to blare out of the speakers. Turning the volume up, she made her way back to the kitchen, in something that could only be described as a half-dance. She opened a cabinet and pulled out the bottle of _Apothic Red Wine _which she had bought a couple of weeks back. It wasn't the expensive kind that she normally longed for, but she liked the mixture of Zinfandel, Syrah and Merlot with a fruity appeal. So yes, it was cheap, but it was tasty as hell, and at the moment, Felicity didn't particularly care.

She filled a glass and took a sip from it, taking the bottle with her as she walked back to the living room, where she then put it on the table. Holding her wineglass in one hand, she turned up the volume with the other and slowly began moving around. It didn't take long until she was full out dancing wildly, accidentally spilling some of the wine on the floor. She shrugged, happy she missed the carpet and figuring that she could clean it up after midnight, when this wretched day that reminded her of how alone she was, was over. She put the glass on the table and turned the volume up further as Britney Spears' _Toxic_ came on and she started singing along, her arms above her head as she swung and shook her hips to the beat. As she twirled, shook and swayed, she came to an abrupt stop when she stood in front of the window as the song ended and the next one began. Felicity, however, did not continue dancing. Instead she stood frozen, glaring at the apartment building on the other side of the street, or rather, glaring at the neighbor on the other side of the street that had apparently been watching her dance. Realizing that someone had seen her make a fool out of herself by dancing, she quickly shut the blinds and cursed, first herself and then her creep of a neighbor. Out of sheer embarrassment, she contemplated putting some pants on, but then she figured that the damage was already done. Instead, her mind went to the creep that was probably telling his good-for-nothing, 'I-heard-you-got-promoted-Ms-Smoak-and-I-don't-understand-why' wife about what he'd seen. God they deserved each other. She hated to be cruel, but since she knew they didn't have any kids, she hoped their marriage failed. Maybe it was the wine doing the thinking now?

Felicity looked at the clock again. It was twenty minutes past eleven. She sat down on the couch and took her wineglass again, gingerly taking another sip. The last forty minutes of Valentine's Day would be all about her. She wouldn't think of the failure her mother thought she was and she would absolutely _not_ think about how alone she was. Groaning, she closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch, rubbing her temples. Who was she kidding? The only thing she could think of was just that. As she had told Oliver, her mother was her mother, and nothing else. She loved her, in a way, but she knew that her mother never really had been the same after her father had left them. Every time she saw her mother, the older woman would point out how by now every last one of Felicity's cousins was either married or engaged. She hated that Felicity valued her work at Queen Consolidated more than finding someone to spend the rest of her life with, and Felicity hated the feeling of being pressured. When Felicity had told her about her new position as Oliver Queen's EA, her mother hadn't been impressed since she had thought that Felicity wanted a higher position in the IT-department and saw it as more of a degradation to become someone's secretary (which Felicity explained that she wasn't, but it never got through).

The time was 11:38 pm, on Valentine's Day, and Felicity was all alone in her apartment, thinking about the failure she was in her mother's eyes, when someone rang on her doorbell. Frowning, she got up from the couch, putting the wineglass back on the table before heading for the door. Who could it be this late? Perhaps one of the neighbors had gotten the wrong door in a drunken state? She looked into the peephole and froze. On the other side of the door, she saw the very familiar face of none other than Oliver Queen. She swallowed thickly before opening the door.

"Oliver?" she asked, wondering if she was hallucinating. "What are you doing here?"

It took him a good couple of seconds to reply, because he was too busy staring at her. Felicity looked down at herself and realized that she still wasn't wearing any pants, and her MIT shirt wasn't exactly leaving much to anyone's imagination. A blush crept up her cheeks, but she tried to act cool about it.

"Can I come in?" Oliver asked, his voice hoarse as he looked into her eyes again.

"What?" Felicity asked, not sure she had heard him right. This was way too much like some romantic old comedy she had watched a couple of days ago when she hadn't been able to sleep.

Oliver's lips twitched and one side curled up, in a half-smile. "Can I come in, Felicity?" he asked, motioning to her apartment.

She stared at him before finally moving out of the way, allowing him to step inside. When he passed her, he turned his whole body around, which made Felicity realize that he was holding both of his hands behind his back. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she closed the door.

"What?" he asked, leaning forward to hear better, and she noticed that she hadn't turned off the music yet. She ran to the stereo, forgetting that her shirt went up slightly, and turned the device off before pulling her shirt down as much as she could to cover herself.

"I said, what are you doing here?" she repeated, and he took a step closer.

"I wanted to come and say thank you," he explained. The way he was looking at her wasn't unfamiliar to her, but there was obviously something different with his tone tonight. "Generally for always being there for me and Diggle, and being a part of our team, but also because you always have my back."

It took Felicity a second to catch up with what he was saying. "Uh, should I be saying 'you're welcome' or 'thank you for appreciating my effort'?" she asked him, still a bit confused.

Oliver let out a breath and took another step forward. "I just want you to know how much you're appreciated," he told her. "It's five to midnight, so I'm not too late with this," he said, finally revealing that he'd been holding a bouquet of red roses behind his back as he held them toward her. "Happy Valentine's Day, Felicity." He held the flowers up for her and she inhaled sharply.

"You didn't have to," she told him, but deep inside, her heart was beating so quickly she thought it was likely that he could see it through her chest.

"I did," he said. "I heard you talking to Diggle earlier today about being alone on Valentine's again, and I realized that I had completely forgotten about the day, otherwise I would have asked you to join me for dinner since I didn't have any plans either."

"You would have asked me to dinner?" she asked, once again feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

"I-" he began, but stopped. "I would have," he nodded. "But only if it didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

"Why would I feel uncomfortable about going on a date with you?" she asked. Then she caught up on what she had said. "Not that dinner with you has to be a _date_," she clarified. "I mean, it's perfectly normal for two persons to go out to dinner on Valentine's Day together in a completely platonic way. Especially if they are friends, which we are. Are we? I mean, of _course_ we are because otherwise you wouldn't have showed up here, bringing me flowers and being all romantic," her eyes widened, "Not that I think you intended on being romantic! I mean, you're being a _friend_, right? I mean, friends cheer friends up when they are alone on Valentine's-"

"Felicity," Oliver said, taking yet another step forward, putting his hand on her upper arm. She closed her eyes, cursing herself for not just shutting up. When she opened them, she noticed that he was smiling at her, something which was a rare sight in general. "Honestly," he began, "I _fully_ intended to come here and be romantic."

As minute passed, but it felt like a year.

"What?" Felicity breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.

"It's two minutes 'til midnight," Oliver told her, putting the flowers down on the table, "and I'm asking you to be my Valentine for two minutes." He walked toward her slowly and reflexively, she stepped back just as slow, until her back hit the stereo. He reached behind her, never taking his eyes off of her as he turned to stereo back on again, changing it to radio, where a slow song was playing. "Will you be my two-minute-Valentine, Felicity Smoak?" he asked, his voice only a whisper in her ear as his hands fell to her waist.

"Yes," she found herself whispering back, and the next thing she knew, they were dancing. Her hands were on his shoulders and his hands rested on her hips as they moved slowly. She still couldn't tell if it was a dream, or if it was all real.

Oliver chuckled, "Me either," he told her and she figured she must have said it out loud.

"What brought this on?" she asked him, her hands playing with the hair on the back of his head subconsciously.

"Diggle," Oliver said seriously, causing Felicity to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Diggle?"

"He told me to stop tip-toeing around all of this," he said. "Around _you._"

"Around me?"

"Around my happy ending," he said, stopping their dance. She couldn't breathe. "Felicity, I'm sorry I've been so damn stubborn and oblivious," he told her. "It's taken me too long to figure out that through everything, you've always been there for me. I know what I told you after Russia," Felicity looked down, remembering, "after I so clearly hurt your feelings. I've regretted my words ever since. Then Barry came around, and I realized that you weren't going to wait for me to figure out what I want and I can only hope that I'm not too late."

"Oliver," Felicity finally said, looking up at him. Now she understood the change in his behavior lately. He had been acting strange for a couple of weeks now. Looking at her for a moment too long sometimes as she rambled on an on about something completely irrelevant and touching her arm a lot more than usual were just two examples.

"Felicity." She looked up at him again, and noticed the look of desperation in his eyes. She hadn't said anything yet, and she didn't intend to either. Instead, she leaned up on her tip-toes and pulled him down simultaneously as she pressed her lips to his. He responded by pressing his lips against hers with the equal amount of emotions. She stepped forward, trying to get as much contact with him as possible and felt goosebumps appear on her skin as his hands moved under her shirt to her lower back, where his thumbs then drew small circles.

They pulled apart, both breathless and high from whatever emotion they were both too afraid to voice aloud. Their foreheads were touching and Oliver reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Would you like to stay and watch a movie?" Felicity asked, her brain still processing what had happened.

"Yes," he replied, and slowly, they pulled apart and she pulled him to the couch, where they settled next to each other, their fingers still intertwined. Oliver raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips as she turned the TV on. When she leaned closer to her, she automatically leaned into him. His one arm wrapped around her and he moved closer to her ear.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Felicity Smoak," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her cheek. Felicity couldn't help but smile happily, knowing that Oliver was doing the same thing next to her.

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**Note: Reviews are golden! :) Thank you for reading!**


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